


Taking Care

by tmcalamari



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Not Totally Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Somewhat compliant, domestic stucky, soup and feels, steve wears loafers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmcalamari/pseuds/tmcalamari
Summary: Because taking care of Steve was the first thing Bucky was ever good at. And nowadays it looks like it’ll be the last too.





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting on AO3... eeep! This is just a short something I had hanging around. I hope you enjoy it!

Far as Bucky can tell, Steve takes care of everything and everyone. He hasn’t been back all that long, but he wonders who takes care of Steve. 

Not that Steve ever admits to needing care. That’s why he has Bucky. 

Bucky can’t do everything the way he used to. His arm is fucked, the memories are sporadic at best, he’s basically wanted around the globe- but Steve? Steve makes it all a little more bearable. Because taking care of Steve was the first thing Bucky was ever good at. And nowadays it looks like it’ll be the last too. 

Steve’s asleep on the couch. His face pressed half on a pillow and his boring loafers still on his feet. Bucky smiles as he thinks the pillow will leave a crease across Steve’s face when he wakes and he finds that so endearing. Like Steve’s a child who just goes and goes and goes before crashing so hard he doesn’t even see it coming. All the energy in the world but no idea how to pace it.   
He approaches slowly, his socked feet quiet against the rug, and pushes some blonde hair back from Steve’s forehead. He kisses the spot as his fingers leave it- and fuck, he loves this stupid son of a bitch so much. 

Bucky shuffles back into the kitchen because recently he can say a lot more with some food than he can with actual words. He just wants Steve to feel taken care of for a change. He heats up some soup that he spent all yesterday making. It’s simple- something they might’ve made back before the war if they had a particularly lucky week moneywise. 

“Buck?” A muffled voice calls. 

“Cookin’,” Bucky calls back and moments later Steve’s large frame fills the kitchen walkway. He’s tugged the loafers off and his hair is sticking up in the back and there is a crease across his face and Bucky’s heart clenches. 

“Smells good,” he mumbles, trudging closer to Bucky before placing his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder, pressing his weight against Bucky’s back. It’s times like these that Bucky is so fully reminded that Steve is not small, Steve is not sick, Steve does not need him the same way he used to. “You do too,” he adds.

Bucky turns his head and Steve catches his lips in a kiss. It’s quick and afterwards Steve exhales slowly, sagging more of his weight against Bucky. Steve needs this. At the end of a tiring or ridiculous or successful or disappointing day of being Captain America, he needs to know he can come back to Bucky. And be Steve. Steve who sleeps on couches and watches too much Grey’s Anatomy and takes long showers and drinks chocolate milk. 

Bucky finds it doesn’t matter what Steve needs from him. He always gives it. “Thanks, Stevie,” he says.

“For what?” Steve asks.

“For being you. Helping me be me.”

Steve blushes, ducks his head. Bucky feels right.


End file.
